


Bond Forged by Blood

by allitalksfandom



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: (That tag summarizes my experience as a fic writer honestly.), Brief Mention of Suicide, Brother-Sister Relationships, Character Development, Character Study, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Nagamas 2015, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Pre-Canon, Sibling Bonding, Siblings, Sparring, Swordfighting, Swordsmanship training, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 09:23:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10303388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allitalksfandom/pseuds/allitalksfandom
Summary: Eirika has never been as bold as her brother, but her decision to learn swordplay from him changes the course of her life forever.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aurumite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurumite/gifts).



> Originally posted January 24, 2016. I described it as follows:  
> Happy belated Nagamas, arthoure!  
> I apologize for the delay. Inspiration came to me late, and somehow my Renais headcanons came together to create this. I imagine Eirika as being considerably more timid as a child than as an adult. But I also have wondered about her learning swordplay with Ephraim’s guidance. I hope you enjoy!

           The nobles’ on her father’s court say that Ephraim is brave.

           Their teacher says that he is reckless.

           He is her best friend.

* * *

 

           “Ephraim, what will you do if you fall?”

           He rolls his eyes. “I’m not  _going_ to fall. I’m lying on the branch, and my legs are wrapped around it. Now be quiet so I can get us honey.” One inch…another…yet another…Ephraim is in front of the beehive. “Hand me up a stick, will you? I’m going to poke it.”

           “I would get down if I were you, Ephraim.”

           “Well, you’re not!” Deciding not to wait for her, he rips a twig off of the tree. He decisively pokes it into the hive.

           Eirika runs and hides behind another tree.

           Ephraim, meanwhile, swats at the bees swarming around him. “Augh!” He falls from the tree, landing in a pile of leaves.

* * *

 

           He is her protector.

           He is brave.

           She is not.

* * *

 

           “My ankle hurts.” Eirika knows that she is whining, but for the second she doesn’t care. It had been Ephraim’s idea to race on the ice. She’d never deny him that, not after he did well in lessons today. Father will be so proud of both of them. She owes Ephraim a fun day.

           Ephraim ties his scarf around her ankle. “There. I fixed it.”

           “So you’re a healer now?” Eirika sticks out her tongue at him.

           He returns the gesture. “I am until we get to the infirmary. Can you walk?”

           She stands up, unsteady on her feet. “I think so.”

           “Lean on me, then.”

* * *

 

           “Ephraim is sick today, sir.” Eirika hates to lie to their tutor. He knows as well as she does that her brother is at the knight training grounds, watching them whack each other with sharp sticks.

           Their tutor sighs. “His Majesty is blessed with a reasonable daughter.”

* * *

 

           She’s reasonable. She’s not fun, or brave.

           She’s well-behaved.

           She’s filled with fear.

* * *

 

           Eirika finds Ephraim standing on the lower rung of the wooden fence surrounding the training grounds. “Ephraim?”

           He turns his head slightly. “Are you done lessons already?”

           Eirika sighs. “He didn’t want to instruct me if he would have to repeat himself.”

           Ephraim snorts. “Really? He loves hearing himself talk!”

           “Ephraim! We’re eleven now. We have to start acting responsible.  You’ve developed quite a bad habit of skipping lessons! You can’t just spend all day watching the knights.”

           “I know that. That’s why I’m going to ask Father if I can learn how to fight. He’s talked about how he started to learn at twelve-”

           She gapes at him. “Please tell me that this is a joke.”

           “It’s not a joke. I’m going to learn how to use a sword. Or maybe a lance…”

           Eirika cuts him off. “No, no, no.”

           He stares at her. “Why? What’s so strange about my learning to fight?”

           “Several things! Renais hasn’t had a war in centuries! We have knights to protect us! And most importantly, you could be killed!”

           He has the gall to  _laugh_ at her. “Why would someone try to kill me? I haven’t even got facial hair yet. We’re only eleven.”

           “People die on battlefields, Ephraim. It’s no joke!”

           “Well, I won’t be one of them. Because I’ll be the best warrior there is.”

           “Please, Ephraim. What will I do without you?”

           He frowns. “Well, won’t you join me on the battlefield?”

           She takes a step back. “I could never! I…I have no desire to be a warrior.”

           “But I do. Is that so bad?”

           She doesn’t answer him.

* * *

 

           They still talk, of course, and spend time with each other. But it isn’t the same.

           Months pass. Sometimes, she hides behind a post on the training grounds and watches Ephraim test out various weapons.

           Father often asks him about his progress. Ephraim is more animated than ever, if possible. And her father’s eyes light up during their talks. (Eirika usually tries to finish her supper quickly on those days).

           The months turn to years. Ephraim seems to care the most for the lance; he carries one around the castle.

           “Why do you insist on bringing that everywhere?”

           He scoffs at her. “A warrior is always prepared, Eirika.”

           Much to her dismay, their tutor permits this nonsense.

            _Everyone only cares about war. Even Tana is training as a Pegasus knight!_

           The solution to the emptiness arrives in the middle of the night. She is staring at the ceiling of her room, failing to fall asleep, when a stray thought crosses her mind.

           She shakes her head, but it comes again. She frowns.

           She gets little sleep that night, but she doesn’t care. She’ll tell Ephraim the news tomorrow.

* * *

 

           “First, we need to work on your stance.”

           “What about it?”

           In response, Ephraim drags over a square wooden board. “Here, stand on this.”

           Unsure of what the purpose of this exercise is, she obliges him. The edges of the board raise off of the ground.

           Without warning, Ephraim steps on one of the corners of the board, stepping off just as quickly.

           “Whoa!” Eirika waves her arms, trying to regain her footing. “How will this help me to swordfight?!”

           “Broaden your stance. Then we’ll talk”

           Eirika moves her feet farther apart. This time, her balance is affected much less by Ephraim’s movement. “Ah, I see. A wider base helps with balance.”

           “Right! If an enemy-er, your sparring partner-is swinging at you, you don’t want to fall backwards in an attempt to dodge them. Speaking of dodging, that’s what we’re working on next. I hope you can move faster than I can throw pinecones.”

           Eirika chuckles. “Are we six years old? I thought we agreed not to throw pinecones at anything or anyone after the incident with the lantern.”

           “You started your training late. This is an easy way to catch up. Do you want to be able to protect Renais?”

           She stops laughing.  _Ephraim never looks like this. So…serious._ “Yes. With all of my heart and soul.”

           He claps her on the back. “Then let’s go.”

* * *

 

           Her entire body is sore.

           She doesn’t hurt immediately after her lessons with Ephraim. It is only the next day, when she sits down to dine or to read, that her muscles groan in protest.

           The pain is less each time, however.

           Almost two months into her training, Kyle is kind enough to lend her a vulnerary. “Are you ill, Princess?”

           She shakes her head. “Ah, no, thank you. I simply overexerted myself today.”

           “If I may be so bold as to make a suggestion, Princess?”

           “Certainly.”

           “I’ve found it best to have a certain goal in mind when I practice swordplay or lancework. Once that goal is reached, I move on to other tasks.”

           “And this will prevent me from overtaxing myself?”

           “It works for me. I am aware that everyone trains differently, but perhaps this could solve your problem?”

           “I believe it might. Thank you, Kyle.”

* * *

 

           She often trains on her own now.

           Her enemies are invisible but many, and she expects that she makes for quite a spectacle, dancing around like she’s surrounded by foes.

           At the very least, she appears to have caught the attention of some of the younger squires.

           When she looks in the mirror in her bedchamber, she no longer sees a girl. Her face is more defined, her body is taller. She no longer feels like a stranger in her own skin.

           Men (and some of the maids, for that matter) have noticed her changes, too.

           Franz approaches her one evening, seeking to apologize for the gawking of his classmates. “I’ve done my best to convince them to permit you to practice in peace, Your Highness…”

           Eirika shakes her head. “Please don’t trouble yourself, Franz. I’m certain that my presence is surprising. Not many princesses train for war, after all. Thank you for being concerned, however!”

           He looks relieved. “I’m very glad to hear that, Your Highness. You’re always welcome here.”

* * *

 

           She often sees Forde talking with Kyle or sparring with her brother.

           “Have you been out here all day, Your Highness? You’re almost as common a sight as the prince these days.”

           “Not  _all_  day,” she responds, grinning. “I took shelter inside during the thunderstorm. Ephraim wanted to stage a battle in the banquet hall, but I convinced him otherwise.”

           “That would have been a sight!” Forde repositions his scabbard, moving his belt. “I know that it isn’t my place, Your Highness, but perhaps you should spend more time off of the training grounds. I know that I have a bit of a…reputation for sleeping, but you’ll be sure to run out of energy if you spend too much time swordfighting.”

           Eirika smiles. “Thank you for your concern, Forde, and I can assure you that there are no hard feelings on my part. However, I began my training when I was nearly grown…I must make up for lost time.”

           “Well, I’ve certainly never been skilled at convincing people not to do things, so I’ll oblige you, then.” He glances around, and, seeing that no one else is in earshot, leans closer.  “If you are ever desperate, I hid a blanket inside a hollowed-out tree on the other side of the stables…”

           She giggles. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

* * *

 

           Forde had been right all along.

           For how long had she been asleep? The last she remembers, it was an hour before supper, the sun just beginning to set. Now, the moon seeks to reign over the sky.

           Her body is cold from lying on the stone bench, but the embarrassment in her body soon dispels the chill.

           “I apologize for startling you, Princess.” Seth, mercifully, does not deign to comment on her current situation.

           “Please do not apologize, Seth. Indeed, I must apologize for acting so disgraceful.” She sits up, managing to look him in the eyes. “I do hope that my lack of presence at supper has not given my father cause for alarm?”

           “The king assumed that you remained at the grounds. He had asked me, however, to determine if you were still here. I had planned on passing by the armory. I thought it prudent to examine our stores.”

           That makes sense. After all, Seth has only recently been appointed Commander of the Knights of Renais. He has been serious in demeanor as long as she has known him, but perhaps he has a lot on his mind concerning the position.

           “In any event, I am glad that you did not have to go out of your way to locate me.” She stands up.

           “Your father did say that he wishes to speak with you, however.”

           “Do you know where he is?”

           “He said that he planned on spending much of the night in his study.” Seth pauses, and Eirika knows that he is thinking the same thing as her: King Fado seems able to keep all sorts of hours and never tire. She finds it one of his most admirable qualities.

           “I see. Thank you, Seth.”

           She half-expects him to suggest that she retire to her chambers afterward, but he simply bids her farewell. She has never been more grateful for his serious demeanor.

* * *

 

           Eirika has always loved her father’s study. Warmed by a fireplace, it is home to comfortable chairs and pictures of Renais’ rulers past. Now, though, she looks upon a portrait of Renais’ first king, wielding the Sacred Twins.

           “You had wished to speak with me, Father?”

           “There’s no need to be so formal, Eirika. Please sit down.”

           She obliges. “I understand; I simply regret troubling you with my, ah, choice of beds.”

           “Frankly, I’m surprised that none of my men located you before Seth. On the other hand, he has more than proven himself capable in other areas, so I am not shocked that he stumbled upon you.”

           “He is very accomplished for his age,” Eirika agrees.

           “Speaking of accomplishments, I’ve heard much about your new fondness for swordfighting. I know that we have talked about this before, but I had not realized that your perseverance had earned such praise.”

           Her heart skips a beat. “Thank you, Father! I am glad that I have proven myself, but I still feel that I have far to go…”

           “What would you say is the biggest struggle you have encountered?”

           “I know that swords weigh nary the weight of an infant, yet I still feel fatigued after a long time spent training.”

           “I see. It appears my guess was right, then. How would you like to try out a different sort of blade?”

           He hands her a box.

           She opens it, her eyes brimming with tears of gratitude.

* * *

 

           Ephraim gapes at her rapier. “This is the best-crafted sword I’ve even seen. We need to test it out!”

           Eirika shakes her head. “I believe I’ve had enough swordfighting for today! I can’t believe I became so careless as to fall asleep on a bench next to the training grounds…”

           “Like Father said, you’ve been working hard. You have to remember, though, that as good as you are, you’re still new to this. You need to build up more stamina!”

           Eirika smiles. “When did you get so wise?”

           Ephraim smiles back at her. “It’s from spending so much time with you.”

           “He’s proud of you for it. Father, that is.”

           Ephraim shuffles his feet. “Not the same way he’s proud of you.”

           “Are you certain? Because I am. Father is both a warrior and a king. It’s only natural that he would want the same for his children. Yet I’ve never realized it until now…”

           Ephraim changes the subject, but Eirika hopes that he takes her words to heart.

* * *

 

           A few days later, the royal family visits the castle’s armory.

           The royal armorcrafter knew of their visit beforehand, yet he is still flustered in their presence. This sort of reaction has always made Eirika slightly dismayed; she wishes that her subjects would be more comfortable around her. “How may I aid you, Your Majesty?”

           “Both the prince and princess seek armor.” Fado places a hand on her shoulder.

           The craftsman asks them questions and looks at their sketches for designs.

           Her body feels as if it has been shocked by lightning, she feels so excited.

* * *

 

           Eirika’s entire world has turned upside down. “An invasion? How…Why?”

           The twins stand on a balcony overlooking the main gate to the castle. To the south is Grado, their once friend and now enemy.

           Ephraim shakes his head. “I cannot possibly imagine. I know that we have only interacted with Emperor Vigarde a handful of times, but he always seemed to value peace, and his friendship with Father is as strong as ours with Lyon. Which also troubles me. Lyon couldn’t hurt a fly. How could he let this happen?”

           “Lyon is very timid, though, Ephraim.”

           “I know, but don’t you think that his time with us emboldened him? Surely he would have at least attempted to convince his father of some other course of action. He also hasn’t written to us in months.”

           “He has his research with the Fire Emblem to occupy him-”

           Ephraim holds up a hand. “No. There are no excuses or explanations for this. At least, none that we can determine while we’re here in the castle!” He makes a fist and pounds it into his other hand. “We need to assemble a defensive force. We’ll also need scouts…”

           Eirika raises an eyebrow. “What is this ‘we’ you speak of?”

           “This is what we’ve been training for, Eirika!”

           She shakes her head. “No it isn’t! We train as a last resort. We’re needed here.”

           “No, Father is needed here. Renais will need leadership on the front. Why not me?”

           Eirika feels dread weigh down her stomach.  _This is just like the conversation we had so many years ago…_  “Ephraim…”

           “Think about it, Eirika. General Seth is needed here with Father. He’ll want someone he can trust on the front.”

           “He’ll never let you go!”

           Her words ring out in the evening air.

           Ephraim responds slowly.

           “I don’t need his permission.”

           Her breathing is labored. “Ephraim, please…”

           He grins weakly. “People have always talked about my being responsible. This is the only way I know how.”

           He turns his back to her and walks inside.

* * *

 

           Ephraim leaves in the middle of the night a few weeks later.

           The knights are shocked to find three of their number missing. Not only have Forde and Kyle, Ephraim’s frequent companions, left, but Orson, a long-serving knight, has also vanished.

           Father takes it as well as anyone could hope, as does Franz.

           Eirika does her best, as well.

* * *

 

           Time marches on, and her days fall into a pattern.    

           Once or twice a week, her father receives a message from Ephraim.

           After a month, Eirika asks him why he does not call Ephraim back to Renais.

           “The gods know I’ve tried, but your brother is stubborn. I’m afraid both of you inherited that from me.” He chuckles at the mock offended look on her face. “As it stands, his reports on the numbers amassing in Grado are essential.”

           “Do you think it will come to war?”

           For the first time she can remember, her father looks tired. “I don’t know.”

           Regardless, she then locates Franz and lets him know that his brother is doing well.

           Where Franz is, Seth is often nearby, or else meeting with other knights or her father.

           She continues to train. She manages to convince Seth to spar with her at one point. He’s much stronger than she is, but she does her best to dodge his attacks, and her rapier seems to give him pause.

           She doesn’t want war. But she doesn’t want anyone to die protecting her. Better to protect herself.

* * *

 

           She is alone.

           Emotionally, that is. Seth is but a few steps away, but both are lost in their own thoughts.

           They make a meal of the bread in Seth’s pack and the berries she has gathered.

           Once again, her eyes are drawn to his wound. Perhaps she should have made a fuss when he apologized for grabbing her. She could have convinced him to redress the offense by allowing her to use a Vulnerary on him.  _On the other hand, he could not have become the Commander of the Knights of Renais if he were a fool. He would see right through my attempt._

Her thoughts are interrupted by his voice. “I suggest that you rest after we finish eating, Your Highness. As close as we are to Mulan, I doubt we can reach the fortress by nightfall. While the cover of darkness would aide us in concealing ourselves from our enemies, it would make it difficult to travel without following the road, which puts us at risk of detection.”

           “But what of you, Seth?”

           “I will keep watch.”

           “You were entrusted with protecting me, and you can hardly do so if you are fatigued. Additionally, you’ve been severely wounded. Rest would do your arm good.”

           “I can rest at Castle Frelia, Your Highness.”

            _He isn’t going to back down. I just want to spare him distress, and he the same for me, but neither of us is going to budge._ “I suppose we will be extra safe tonight, then, as I doubt I will be able to sleep.”

Seth gives her a knowing look but says nothing.

* * *

 

           Her soul is raw.

           She stares up at the night sky, her back to a tree.

           She would know if her family was dead, wouldn’t she?

           She has to believe that they live.

           Surely they would be more valuable to the enemy alive.

           Surely nothing could defeat her father and her brother.

           It seemed like Seth’s words about their survival were forced, however. Does he believe she is the only heir to the Renais throne alive?

           She won’t believe it.  _She can’t_ afford to believe it.

* * *

 

           “Yes, we hear the prince and his men hound Grado at every turn. It’s said that he’s led his forces into the empire itself. Reports suggest he’s crossed the border and now fights in Renvall.”

            Her world turns rightside-up. Warmth fills her limbs as she speaks. “My brother… He fights on? Even now?”

            “Yes. My pegasus knights bought this information at a great price. Even though Renais has fallen, he charges into the enemy’s heart. He is truly Fado’s son… What a valiant youth. I wish I knew whether he remains unharmed, but I do not.”

            Her mind is racing. Is her brother well? Is this a calculated move, or a suicide mission? Can the war still be won? Yet one thing is clear. “King Hayden, I thank you for your offer, but I cannot stay. I intend to ride to my brother’s side with reinforcements.”

           King Hayden certainly did not expect such a response, and from the looks of it, neither did anyone else in the room. “I cannot allow it. I know how you feel, but this plan is suicide. I would be betraying Fado’s memory if I allowed any harm to befall you. Stay here. Rest and mourn. Leave this war to the warriors.”

           She shakes her head. “I know you mean well, Your Majesty. However, I have lost my father, and my twin brother is in peril. My brother, he is a part of me… I cannot rest here in peace while he risks his life.”

           King Hayden agrees to provide her with troops and funding.

           Afterwards, she and Tana talk, the two of them tucked away in a deserted corridor of the castle.

           “I don’t know why I am surprised of your decision, Eirika. You’re a lot like your brother, so full of-“

           “Foolhardiness?”

           “No! Courage.”


End file.
